


Switcheroo

by betawho



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Humor, Romance, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 18:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betawho/pseuds/betawho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and River have accidentally switched genders, she's now a man, he's now a woman. It's very distracting, especially when they have a monster to kill...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Switcheroo

He was a large muscular man, nearly six feet tall, with strong features, a sensual mouth, and a cloud of impossible golden curls. A diadem around his brow made him look like the Jewish version of a greek god, like Zeus.

She was a tall, slender woman, with thick wavy brown hair, a long slender nose, high cheekbones and brilliant deepset eyes. She had a look of fiery intelligence, like Athena.

She clapped her hands, “Right, now, we’ve got to find the Worm. It’s bound to have left a trail of destruction.” She rubbed a hand over her face. She looked around at the Palladian garden they were standing in, lots of Ionic columns, Doric cornices, rigidly patterned plants and walkways, and puffy white clouds in a cerulean blue sky.

“I know what we’re looking for, Sweetie,” said the curly haired man in a booming, husky voice. The Doctor turned to look at him in surprise. The man gave him a flirtatious look.

The woman shook herself, unwilling to admit the voice had affected him. She looked at her companion, dressed, like herself, in a short chiton and laceup sandals.

The man’s eyes traveled down his form and grinned. “Nice legs.”

The Doctor stared down in surprise. Long smooth legs emerged from the bottom of his chiton. He had the unbearable urge to pull his skirt down.

“Yes, well, nevermind that,” he waved it away with an impatient arm, surprised again to see the elegant smooth arm that passed before his eyes.

He heard the “shuck” of a gun being chambered and turned to see his companion checking the magazine of a large, plastic, military grade laser pistol.

It looked extremely dangerous in the heavy, but very well manicured hands.

“Right!” he yelled. Making his companion jump, and forcing his mind back to the current problem. “The Worm will be affecting the environment around it. We’ve got to find it and remove the brain before it reaches the center.”

His burly companion nodded, and his eyes flowed down appreciatively over her again.

“Would you stop doing that!” The Doctor fisted his elegant, longfingered hands, refusing to admit to the blush that rose in response to the look.

“Sorry, Sweetie, can’t help it,” the man grinned.

The woman shoved elegant fingers through her disheveled hair, one lock falling back down into her face. She turned a quick circle, studying the gardens. “There!” She pointed toward the western edge of the gardens.

The plants looked smudged there, the gravel path slewed to one side. He ran forward, only to find his way barred by a brawny golden arm.

“Me first, Sweetie.” The man gripped his gun and led the way, the Doctor stared in openmouthed disbelief at the protective gesture.

His mouth firmed and he glared at the broad back as he hiked up his chiton and ran to follow.

The path jinked to the left, the plants looked like watercolors that had been left to dribble in the rain, and the sky looked as if it had been pulled down, like a curtain, one cloud looking as if it was sliding down a slope to the ground.

They found their first casualty. A horse that had been sheared neatly in half. The demarcation ruler straight.

The Doctor made a hurt noise, but they barreled along the wavering path, there were no bird songs, no breeze, no smell of flowers, just a dead stillness, only the sound of their own breathing, and the crunch of gravel under their sandals.

They found the Worm, literally chewing the scenery. It was hugely fat and swollen, twelve feet tall and forty feet long. The world warped around it like space in a gravity field.

“Any ideas how we’re going to deal with this, Sweetie?” the big blond man said in his deep voice.

The woman patted her chiton with nervous hands. She pulled out a greenstick that had been peeled down to smooth white bark underneath. There was a green burl on one end.

She stared at it then threw it over her shoulder with a look of disgust. “So much for the sonic screwdriver!”

She looked around, frantically cataloging the resources around them, bushes and gravel. She looked up, green eyes wry, “What about your gun?”

The man held it out and shot it desultorily into the gallumping mass of the Worm. The beam didn’t even phase it. His wide shoulders shrugged. Familiar cat-slanted eyes stared down at her with wry acceptance.

“Right then,” the slender woman clapped her hands and rubbed them together, slightly slouching. “Back to basics then. Can you distract it?”

“Oh, Sweetie, I was _born_ to be a distraction.”

The dark haired woman looked up at the golden godlike man and resolutely ignored the shivery chill that slid pleasantly down her spine. “I can’t argue with that.”

The godlike man grinned, tossed his gun into the bushes and materialized a long, double handed broadsword. With a thunderous yell he ran forward, swinging the sword and drawing a long slash down the Worm’s side.

The monster turned and bellowed. The man deftly sliced a notch out of its nose.

“Well. _Here goes!_ ” The intellectual, floppy haired woman gathered up her skirts, raced forward, and dove straight into the monster’s mouth.

“I always hate this part,” she muttered, as she wiggled down its gullet.

———

Light blazed behind the Doctor’s eyes, brilliant white. He blinked and snorted, and gradually the light faded, revealing River, leaning back in the stasis recliner opposite him.

She blinked her eyes open, the golden input diadem shining on her brow.

“Did we do it?” she asked, her voice husky and soft, familiar, welcome.

The Doctor whipped his hand up and shoved off the diadem on his own head, only stopping briefly to appreciate the look of his own large, strong-veined hand.

He jumped up, and punched at the controls on the Tardis console. River disentangled herself from her chair behind him, her clothes whispering against the leather seat.

The Doctor blew out a breath and hung his head over the readouts. “Yes, the Worm has been neutralized. Automatic backup systems have already started repairing the environment.”

He turned and looked at her, the delicate line of her jaw, the elegant arch of her brow, and that sweet, lovely mouth.

That mouth smiled at him, and bit her lip. He felt the familiar kick in his gut. That was more like it.

“I suppose you thought that was funny,” he said in a reasonable, level tone, ignoring the jitters that crawled under his skin.

“Well,” she traced a flirtatious fingernail down his strong wrist and the back of his hand. She flirted those eyes up at him. “You have to admit, it _was_ interesting.”

He ran a hand through his hair, her eyes went up to it. He ignored the look, much as he had inside the program, and with much the same nervous twitter in his stomach.

“Humans may have evolved into downloads,” he said acerbically, “but their programming is _still_ full of bugs!”

River grinned a full blown naughty grin at him.

“Next time, Sweetie,” she leaned forward, whispering, “you’ll be sure to check the avatar parameters.” Her eyes twinkled madly, brows arched. “Not everyone plays with the same gender settings.”

—

* * *

_For more stories by this author click[here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/betawho/works)._  
 _Please take a moment to leave a comment in the box below._


End file.
